Goddess of Hell
by addict.to.reading
Summary: Rosalie, Bella, and Alice are best friends, famous, rich, and all swear against love. Their status has let them avoid high school drama until Emmett arrives on the scene. And he isn't taking 'no' for an answer. Contains mature content. AU. All Human.
1. Chapter 1

Well, as I'm stumped as to my other stories, I came up with a genius idea. Why not start a new one?! Lol, I liked this idea better, anyway. This is going to be very angsty, and much more mature then my other stories. If you are offended by swearing, crude language, and um, misbehaving teenagers, please don't read this. Otherwise, go right ahead. This is going to be the first in a series I've come up with. In this Universe, the girls are best friends, almost sisters, that don't believe in love. In each story, one of the girls has her little chance to shine. This one is about Rosalie, and will be from her perspective except for the prologue, which is from Emmett's perspective. Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight

EMPOV

When one describes high school, what words come to mind? Social hierarchy, bullies, drugs, alcohol, sex, perhaps learning? Well, what happens when one attends a school full of the children of the rich and powerful? Does the school change to become better or worse?

These were the questions I pondered as my plane landed down in Forks, Washington. Already I could feel the gloom of the constant rain wash over me. Everywhere I looked was a mass of green, despite the lack of sun. My wardrobe of short sleeved football jerseys and shorts was hardly going to cut it in this dreary town. It wasn't like I could go shopping in Forks, either; there were only a handful of stores and I highly doubted they would sell anything remarkably close to my style.

When my dad mentioned moving to Forks, my step-mom complained about the shopping. She claimed she would die with only six places to shop from in the tiny town, until my dad explained the stores held Chanel, Prada, Gucci, Valentino, and all those other completely expensive and useless shit she loved. It was right then and there that I decided I would hate Forks with a passion. Then my dad went on to explain that it wasn't a little mining town like I thought, but while half the town did hold the miners, the other held people like us. Rich. Famous. Influential. The kind of people that I can't stand. Not to mention the types that went to Yale, Harvard, and Princeton. I wanted to get a football scholarship and skip the ivy league shit.

The thing is, my dad was completely caught up on this bull that I wanted to take over his business some day. He was hoping for a lacrosse geek with ivy league marks, polo sweaters, and an interest in the school council. One of his main reasons of dragging me off to this hell hole was a last, desperate, no-way-in-hell, hope that I would learn to fit in at the school.

While Forks High wasn't technically private, it was a fucking rich kid's school. You had to be able to buy a house near the area, and to do that you had to be loaded. The miner kids all went to some shit school that looked like a slum. Fuck, I wanted to go there. For one thing, they didn't have to wear stupid ass uniforms with a blazer and everything. For another, students didn't have to meet up with the guidance councilors every bloody week to talk about their current chances of getting into those fucking Ivy Leagues.

But of course my dad would never agree, so I was stuck to sitting in his stupid and cliche limo complete with a flippin' driver and everything. I was a jeep kind of guy, so the limo went against everything I stood for. Hell, Forks went against everything I stood for. And I definitely didn't appreciate the limo, or my fucking father and step-mother. My dad was in one of his usual retard business suits and his latest wife was in some type of designer sweats, in pink, of course.

The two imbeciles were discussing all the rooms of the house and who my step-mother hired to decorate. Thank god I got to fix up my own room exactly as I wanted it. It would be covered in posters of rappers, football players, and women in no time.

The rest of the house looked like a fucking museum in all sorts of granites and marbles. It was insanely open and airy, as my step-mother preferred, but I loathed. The pool was tiny and really for show anyway. The entire move seemed to be more awful then I could have ever thought.

When the parentals tried to talk to me, I got the hell out of there. I grabbed my ipod and started running outside, hoping to come across some chick, but highly doubting it when it was pouring and all the chicks were probably in pilates. So I just kept on sprinting towards nowhere, hoping my fucking bad luck would end. Maybe I would find out I was switched at birth, or some shit like that.

Then, I saw them. At first I thought it was just an illusion through the rain, but I just kept getting closer and they were still there. There were three of them. They sat out in a park I was nearing, all of the on a swing. They ignored the pouring rain, though I doubted it would affect such angels. For some strange reason, it felt like I knew these girls. They seemed familiar.

The first one was completely tiny, at least half my size. She had short black hair that was completely wild and looked like sex hair. However, it was her bright blue eyes, full of mischief, that made her already beautiful face light up.

The second one was a normal height, though there was definitely nothing normal about any of them. This girl had long brown hair in perfect ringlets, soaking in the rain. She had deep brown eyes that made me feel as if she knew every thought I had ever had.

But it was the third one that was the real goddess. She was one of the tallest girls I had ever seen, and it suited her. She had more curves then any plastic surgery patient I had ever seen, yet she looked all-natural. Her body alone turned me on more then I could have ever thought. But her face. This girl's face was literally perfect. Long and perfectly straight blond hair framed that perfect face of hers. She had amazing bone structure, and hypnotizing full pink lips. Not to mention those beautiful large blue eyes that made her look so vulnerable, so lost, that the aggressive and confident aura she had was almost lost on me. I wanted to protect this girl, and love her forever, the second I laid eyes on her.

All three girls were looking straight back at me. Their eyes were widened in surprise as if they didn't expect to see anyone out. Then, the blond one, the one I was already in love with, beckoned me with a finger. I obeyed as if pulled by an invisible force. As I got closer, she was even more magnificent.

Just as I was about several feet away from the girls, a fucking amazing blue punch buggy I would normally have loved to get my hands on, sped around the corner. The three girls gracefully stood up and headed over to the car, without giving me another look. The beautiful blond led the way.

I tried sprinting towards the car, but it was gone by the time I arrived in the park. The rain also washed away any sign that they had been there, though I found myself searching for some sign of them. It was a weird, out-of-character, experience for me to be so obsessed, by the blond refused to leave my mind. She was literally perfect and though I didn't even want to know her name, I felt like I knew her forever. It was a bloody awful cliche, but it was true. The girl was hypnotizing.

After hours of searching, and while the sky continued to darken and I kept getting colder, I gave up and headed back to hell. The step-mother and my dad were bickering about calling the police to search for me when I walked in. My dad started to yell at me for being so late, but I just fingered him and attacked the fridge in hunger. I found a whole bunch of diet shit before coming across some good scotch and steak. A guy like me couldn't go hungry for long.

I flung the steak at the cook, not bothering to ask her to make it. If she was going to work for me, she would learn not to ask questions and to always have something ready for me. It wasn't fucking difficult. When she finally handed me the barely cooked steak, I threw it down my throat and chugged it with scotch. My dad started yelling at me again, because I was drinking his good stuff. He was always out of it, because I had fine taste in drinks. I wasn't about to put just any shit into the body I hoped to one day make a living with. Still, the alcohol didn't have the usual desired effects.

I could still remember the girl. And dear god, was my memory haunting. If only I had run faster, if only the car hadn't showed up. Hopefully, she would be at my school, but I wasn't sure. What kind of snobby rich girls sit outside in the rain and let their hair soak? None of the girls I had made out with at my old school, thats for sure. Suddenly, I wondered if they were straight. They didn't look like they were making out with each other, but who really knew. It wasn't a big deal anyway, they might offer to all sleep with me at once, if that was the case. It was only that some very hot girls I knew had refused to sleep with me because they didn't like men, and that got annoying. A girl that perfect couldn't refuse me, I'd die.

Without noticing, I had drained my dad's scotch, as well as a couple of beer bottles shoved to the back of the fridge. I was debating finishing off the step-mother's rum, too, but I remembered my cigar before I went that low. She had special low-calorie alcohol that tasted like shit; I only drank it when I was beyond desperate.

The cigar was another thing I was fighting over with my parentals. Neither of the fuckers smoked, and they couldn't stand it when I did. Sometimes, I wondered if I only did things to tick my those asses off. That was probably true, but I didn't give a shit. It was my life, I could smoke if I wanted to.

With the combined affects of the alcohol, cigar, and a line I found in my suitcase, I managed to get to sleep. I slept like a fucking baby that night. The cocaine was good shit. I used to smoke it, but the rush remained longer in my new obsession, and I was hooked. Still, my dreams that night only held the face of a blond haired angel.

On the morning of my first day at Forks High, I yanked on a pair of jeans and my University of Texas jersey. It was the team I wanted to play for, so I loved my jersey. It was my lucky shirt; I had been wearing it when I made the best fucking scores in my life. And I'm not talking about only football, here. So with my lucky shirt, a breakfast of vodka, remaining cocaine, and cold waffles, I was in the stupid ass limo and headed to school. My eyes were peeled open for the stunning blond girl and her very pretty friends. If it wasn't for her, they would have been the most beautiful girls I had ever seen. Too bad for them, their friend existed. Not that I was complaining.

I let the limo drop me off at the front of the school, past the frikin' golden gates and parking lot with cars worth more then the average family ever spends on a house. There was the usual staring at the new kid shit that I had expected when I got out, but thankfully not bleeding welcome committee came at me. They were so stupid that I started fighting one on my first day as a Sophomore, and got expelled right then. I sure as hell didn't like welcome committees anymore.

The office was thankfully right in front of my face the second I walked in, so I headed there and fingered the secretary until she turned around. The lady was perhaps five years out of High School, with fake boobs and badly died blond hair. She was the type I played around with until I saw a girl like the ones last night.

This lady didn't disappoint; she flashed me a wide smile without actually showing her teeth, and said as sweetly as possible, "Can I help you, dear?" In an old woman, it would have been annoying. Coming from her, it was still annoying, but there was a sexual current in her words.

"I'm new." I said, cutting to the point, "Can I get my schedule?" I was eager to go looking for the blond beauty.

She handed me several pieces of paper that I threw out the second they touched my finger tips. She frowned disapprovingly, but called down on the intercom for some fucker to show me around. I could hardly wait.

The kid met my expectations, of course. He was nearly a foot shorter than me, with greasy long hair, braces that did not hide his apparent overbite, and an affinity for annoying me. I held myself back from correcting the overbite with my fist while the kid, who had the nerve to tell me over and over to call him Eric, showed me around. The nerd showed me the different wings of the school, the cafeteria, the four gyms, the pool, and was leading me to the band-room when I grabbed the front of his shirt and held him up against a locker.

"Fuck this," I growled, "I'm fucking bored. Now where are the chicks?"

He swallowed, and motioned for me to let him down, "This way. The girls you are thinking about are always in the library."

I couldn't fucking believe this, "You don't get it, you piece of shit. I don't mean where is your boyfriend, I mean where are the chicks?"

Eric kept nodding, "In the library. I swear! There are the three most beautiful girls to ever go to this school that are always in the library. They already have their credits, they only come for option classes. There is a short black haired girl, a brown haired girl, and their extremely tall blond friend. I'll show you." he was nearly sniffling.

However, I saw red in my vision when he mentioned the three girls. Could it possibly be them? The insanely beautiful girls that were at the park? I pushed Eric in the direction he pointed to until we were running into the library.

And to my complete and utter surprise, the three beauties were sitting there. The black haired girl was painting the nails of the sullen looking brunette, while the blond stared out at the mass of books. She was even more beautiful then I had thought. As well, I noticed that the three were wearing what girls would consider fashionable clothing. I didn't doubt they only wore clothes with designer labels.

"Who are they?" I whispered to Eric, wondering if I should introduce myself.

He chuckled, "Don't get ideas. They only date famous older guys, and mostly only short flings. The head cheerleader swears they are together, but she would never say that to their face. But what you are seeing here are the most popular, good-looking girls in not only this school, but the world. In freshman year, the blond, Rosalie Hale, was scouted as a supermodel. She started to show on the biggest magazines in the industry when she suddenly wanted to quit. Rosalie couldn't continue without her best friends, they are like sisters. So Alice Brandon, the short black haired one, joined Rosalie in her traveling. She started to design clothing. Alice is now the biggest up-and-coming designer out there. The other girl, Bella Swan, soon joined them. She wrote a novel that made her a New York Times Bestselling Author. Those three now travel all over the world with each other, occasionally coming back to Forks for a time. Of course they are the most popular girls in this school. In Forks High, where everyone has money and famous parents, they are the only real novelties. But like I said, they are household names. And household names don't date high school boys."

However, as this was coming from a kid with a lisp whose biggest accomplishment in life was playing the trombone, I ignored the fucker. My eyes were on Rosalie Hale, the gorgeous blond model. However, I didn't think Rosalie seemed like the right name to call her. It was too formal, and I don't do formal.

"Rose? Nice to meet you." I held out a hand, waiting for her to turn to me.

She did so, and the far away look in her eyes was replaced by a hard, cold, shell, "Actually, its Rosalie. But you can call me Ms. Hale."

I winked, "Sure, Rose. Whatever you say. I'm Emmett McCarty."


	2. Chapter 2

Hi, I decided to put three chapters into one. That way it seems like I'm working on the story when I really am not. Oh, and the swearing is going down quite a bit. Though once again I'm saying: if you are uncomfortable with mature themes, including swearing, drugs, and other possibilities, do not read this story. I'm not going to say this again, and I will ignore anyone who says that the story contains too many controversial topics. I'll accept flames, but it is rated MATURE!!!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything

RPOV

My day started as it usually did; with Alice calling me about some fashion crisis and Bella calling me to ask Alice to stop talking. I rolled out of bed, and rolled my eyes at my friends. They were complete pains.

Actually, Alice and Bella were the two most important people in my life. They were more then just best friends; they were sisters and the only people I got along with. We had met up on the first day of kindergarten. Bella had been playing with the lego, and I wandered over to knock it over and introduce myself. When Bella started crying, Alice came over, even then she was smaller then the rest of us, and she knocked me down. That started a screaming fight between the three of us. The teacher put us in the corner to talk about our differences, but for some reason we banded against her and plotted her destruction for forcing us into the corner. Even then we had been brighter then all the other children, and from then on in we were best friends. We couldn't be separated for very long until it became impossible for us to handle. My girls were the only thing that kept me sane and it was the same for them.

Mary Alice Brandon, who refused to be called anything other then Alice, was one of my girls. Alice was my sassy and brave best friend with more fashion sense then anybody I knew. Physically, she wasn't that intimidating. Alice was about five feet in shoes, and all her proportions were just as tiny. That didn't stop her, though. Alice wore only the highest heels she could find, died her blond hair black and got a pixy cut, and had static blue eyes that reflected her crazy personality. She was a little fashionable bundle of fun. As well, she was a fashion designer that made clothes for celebrities and, of course, Bella and I. All her clothes had only three sizes; A, B, and R. Bella and I had found that hilarious when she told us.

Isabella Marie Swan was my other girl. Like Alice, she didn't like her given name so she had shortened it. Bella was sweet, compassionate, shy, and extremely modest. Every time someone complimented her on her New York Time Bestselling books, she blushed the color of a fire engine. Bella the blush-able, Alice and I loved to call her. The other thing she was modest about were her looks. Bella had beautiful brown hair and the deepest, most emotional brown eyes I had ever seen. Alice and I were jealous of her eyes, and we had once looked for contacts like them. However, the real thing could not be duplicated. I guess her eyes also reflected her personality; Bella was very imaginative. Although she didn't believe in love, she was forever longing for it.

Actually, that was the one similarity that Alice, Bella, and I shared. None of us ever expected to fall in love. We just doubted that there was really one special guy out there for all of us. Sure, we dated more then any player, but it was mostly because of our bets and occasional boredom. No guy was good enough for us. Lots of people that meant we were 'together' when we told them our philosophy about guys, but that wasn't true. We all wanted to find our perfect guy, it was just that the guys didn't exist and none of us wanted to have our heart broken.

Our history with love was also a turn-off. When Bella was little, she had seen her parents in fights all the time, only to have her mother walk out on her and her father in the first grade. She swore that she would never do that to a child, so Bella not only didn't believe in falling in love, she also didn't want children. Alice had the experience of being dumped by the guy she thought she was in love with a while ago. His name was James, and he moved away the second Bella and I had gotten our revenge on him.

My own history in love was just as awful. I was born to two people who didn't really like each other, but cared about imagine too much to divorce. The maid swore that the only time she had seen them get along was when I turned out to be beautiful. You see, the second I started to develop my looks, my parents started to plot. They were apart of an old and prestigious family whose fortune was slowly diminishing. My parents hoped for me to marry a very rich man without the history we had. They expected that he would want my family's respectability and contacts, and add to the family fortune. With my looks, it was a great possibility. So my evil, scheming, loveless parents, were always setting me up with nouveau rich and pompous idiots that I couldn't stand. The modeling thing only excelled the number of suitors, so my parents were thrilled.

Currently, Bella, Alice, and I were all dating only one guy each. Bella was with some moron who I could swear looked at guys more then he did Bella. Alice was with this idiot taking Finance at the nearest University, and I was with the latest imbecile my parents dreamed up. Actually, I might have been slightly harsh on the guys, but anyone dating my friends was an idiot compared to them. I was very protective of my friends.

Still, the two needed to find someone to protect them from me when they ran into my bedroom and attacked me when I was trying to sleep. An early morning Rose is a very grumpy Rose.

"Rosie! Rosie! Morning, sunshine! Time to wakey, wakey!" Alice called out in a sing-song voice, pulling off my covers and throwing a pencil skirt and a blouse at me.

Bella grinned at my, apologizing for letting Alice attack me. To be fair, I suppose I had let Alice attack her a couple of times, too. It could be so hard to keep our little friends under control. Especially when she had drank coffee, as it seemed to be this morning.

"Who gave you sugar and what are they on, twerp?" I grumbled while making my way into my bathroom.

Alice giggled with her disgusting morning cheerfulness, "I'm on life, Rosie! Plus, I had to finish making all the dresses for my show tomorrow, so I've been drinking coffee all night long! Woohoo! I'm so going to pass out today!"

Bella yawned, "No idea how you do it. I was up last night reading over my editor's notes, and I'm ready to die. Not hop around like the easter bunny. Rose, my editor wants me to put in a 'steamy scene'. Can you believe it?"

I laughed; Bella might be a hopeless romantic sometimes, but she was a huge prude. The girl never went further then holding hands with her friends. Her editor was forever trying to get her to write more physical romance but Bella didn't have the slightest clue.

"I'll write it for you!" Alice offered.

Alice had 'experience' from James. When they were dating, Bella and I heard countless stories of her times with James. After he left her, she felt like going all the way didn't matter anymore, and didn't care if she did it with someone on her first date. The second Alice had told us this, I was ready to send a hit-man after James to finish off what Bella and I started.

Bella rolled her eyes, "Alice, no offense or anything, but the last time you wrote something, there were just random ideas all over the paper. The only actual sentences were in the very detailed descriptions of the character's clothing. Besides, I'm sure Rose knows as much as you do. I was going to ask her to help me." She had no idea.

"Oh," Alice said in a small voice, "I guess Rose would be better than me."

I rolled my eyes at her dramatic antics while Bella immediately apologized and appeared guilty. Alice and I both were experts in manipulating Bella. No doubt the scene would be written by Alice, handed in, and the editor would just cut it out entirely. It had happened a couple of times.

"Well, Alice," Bella said with the usual guilt in her voice, "If it means that much to you, you can write it."

Alice squealed and clapped her hands. I once again laughed at her, and stepped into the outfit Alice had given me. As always, it fit as perfectly as if it were made for me. Actually, it was made for me. The shoes were only little kitten heels in black; Alice didn't let me wear heels because I was already so much taller then her. Her own shoes were six inches this morning, and in a bright sparkling purple with little diamonds. She wasn't exactly inconspicuous.

Alice grabbed matching silver totes for all of us that she shoved with extra shoes, cell phones, lip gloss, and books. She looked around for my car keys to my convertible, but couldn't find them. I snickered to myself.

"Sorry, my baby is in pieces right now. I'm updating the engine." I told her.

Alice glared, "Geek. Well, how do we get to school now?"

"I could ask Charlie to drive us," Bella offered, until she saw my glare, "Sorry. Didn't know it would 'cramp your style', Rose,"

Alice and I burst out laughing, "Bella, you don't make a very good gangsta. But we can take it old school and call a taxi." Alice suggested.

"Old school, Alice? Old school is the school bus, not a taxi. You two need to stop trying so hard." I said.

Alice giggled, "Sure. We can take the school bus, then! I am so hip."

Bella and I ignored her as we grabbed our bags and headed to the bus stop. The only kids that took the bus were the kids too young to drive their own cars, and whose limos were being used by their parents, so we looked out of place. A teenage boy, who was going through difficult puberty and had serious acne problems, stared at us until drool dripped from his braces. Alice smiled sweetly at him, and he nearly fell over. He looked like he was going to heaven when Alice asked him to sit beside her on the bus. Poor kid, Alice only wanted someone to carry our bags into school.

We arrived at our lockers, took the bags from the kid, and headed down to the library. Alice, Bella, and I were too smart for normal school but we didn't want to go to collage yet. Our decision was to stick around the library all day and prepare for our future courses. Alice was going to take design in collage, and Bella was going into literature, so they didn't really do much. They both knew more then their future teachers, so they mostly talked and watched me work. I wanted to be a mechanic, so I spent my time studying cars. I loved cars; mine was my baby.

Alice and Bella quickly got bored of pretending to study, so Alice forced Bella to let her paint her nails. They bickered for a minute and I rolled my eyes, ignoring them and staring out at the books to show them how annoying I found their usual debate. I stopped in surprise as I heard someone come near us.

"Rose? Nice to meet you." The boy I had seen yesterday at the park was standing there with his hand out. He was more handsome then I had thought; tall, broad shoulders, messy brown hair, smiling green eyes, and a bad boy look. He wasn't as cute as some of the guys I had worked with, especially because his nose was crooked as if it had been broken too many times, but he looked older. I had expected him to be a collage boy home for a while, not a high school student. I vaguely wondered if he was nouveau rich.

As well, I wondered what he was thinking, calling me Rose. Only Bella and Alice could call me Rose. This boy was either ignorant or causing trouble. Judging from his laid back demeanor, I guess the latter.

"Actually, its Rosalie. But you can call me Ms. Hale." I said stiffly.

He winked, "Sure, Rose. Whatever you say." Definitely just cocky, "I'm Emmett McCarty."

McCarty. I had heard that name before. I had heard that Mr. McCarty came from a logging family on the other side of town. According to gossip, he had always been jealous of the rich side of Forks, so he started a business and was lucky enough to make billions. On the way, he dumped his small town sweetheart and mother of his child for the plastic socialite that all the boys in my school would eventually end up married to. Emmett McCarty was the type of boy my parents would want me to date.

"You can go away now," I told him, turning away.

Emmett was persistent, "Actually, I was wondering if you could finish my school tour. I haven't seen the broom closets yet." He winked again.

I decided to challenge him, "I'd be happy to help." I turned to the nerd behind Emmett, "Hey, its Rick, right?"

He blushed, but looked pleased I had gotten close, "Eric, actually."

"Well, Rick, Emmett here has been asking to see the broom closets on the tour you are giving him."

Rick grimaced, but his eyes flashed with the same thoughts of gossip I saw in all the girls in my school, "Sorry, don't swing that way."

Emmett glared at me, "Rosie, if you're so eager for a threesome, I could just ask your friends."

I ignored his statement, "I don't like high school boys."

"I was held back a few years."

Instead of replying, I just got up and left. The girls followed me, glowering at Emmett as they passed. They were as protective of me as I was of them.

After we escaped the library and the annoying rapper-wannabe, the girls wouldn't stop giggling and making crude jokes to me. Actually, Alice was the one making the crude jokes because Bella wouldn't know crude if it came up and bit her on the ass. Anyway, they were both persistent in being annoying, no matter who was making the jokes. Friends; sometimes you love them, but mostly you can't stand them.

"Roses are red, violets are blue, and Emmie lurvs Rosie!" Alice squealed with delight, taking a break from crude to be plain stupid.

Bella snickered, "That doesn't rhyme, Alice. You have no literary skills."

Alice bared her teeth, "You try then, o' poetic one,"

"Roses are red, violets are blue, you want Emmett to sleep with you," they both burst into laughter at my expense. Some friends.

Alice nodded appreciatively, "That was actually a good one, Bella. Didn't know you had it in you. I bet you got that from that lame boy toy of yours."

"Not a chance. Now let us get back to Rose right now. On a scale from one to ten, what is Emmett?"

I rolled my eyes but Alice beat me to answering, "He can't be more then a seven. His nose was severely crooked and the whole fake rapper thing is a major turn-off. I mean, nineties are over, pants need to cover butts these days. Not to mention that guys wearing anymore jewelry then a thin chain is more out than white after labour day. And I'm not talking off-white, I mean real white."

"Alice, we don't need a run-through of how 'out' his wardrobe is. And I'd give him an eight actually, muscles are always in. But ladies, don't forget I have a boyfriend."

Both girls sighed in despair, "Rose, that loser does not count as a boyfriend. First of all, your parents picked him out. Second of all, he plans to become a banker. Third of all, he is in love with his own ghastly image. Fourth of all, his vile Cologne du shit is not even slightly decent. And last of all, your parents picked him out. Basically, the only thing he has going for him is that his personal shopper at Barney's knows how to pick out semi-decent Armani suits. He is not a boyfriend, he is the parasite you deal with until your old enough to move out and date random cute guys until you get bored and want to have children. Honestly, I'd rather you considered the wannabe-gangster to be your boyfriend than the wannabe-banker."

Bella nodded her head in agreement with Alice and then blushed, "Um, girls. There is someone who has been listening in on our conversation..."

We turned to see the fake gangsta himself leaning against a door, half-hidden in a shadow, with a definite smirk on his lips. I noticed that he had really nice lips. They would probably be lots of fun to kiss. As if reading my mind, he winked at me and put his index finger on his bottom lip for a second. Stupid bastard.

"Rose, I know you want me, but your really not giving me any fun if you give up see easily. Try to be a little harder, baby." he said in a husky voice.

Alice giggled and whispered to us, just loud enough for Emmett to hear, "He should know. Emmett knows all about hard."

The comment of course made me look down where I could see that Alice was obviously right. I nearly swooned right there. The idiots my parents made me date never had that little problem but personally I thought it was hot. My perverted mind was going crazy, and I knew Emmett's must be as well. The only downer on the mood was the continuing giggles of my stupid best friends who obviously didn't notice the beads on sweat building up on my forehead. What can I say? I had a healthy appetite that the stuffed shirts I always dated could never fulfill.

"Having naughty thoughts, Rosie?" Alice wailed, further ruining the mood. Damn her and Bella.

Emmett grinned, "I'm alright with that, baby. Come find me when you want to have some fun." he winked one more time and strolled off.

I debated chasing after him, but luckily Bella and Alice noticed and pinned my arms back. The two little devils dragged me back to the library and forced me to sit down. However, I was more then ready to admit that Alice was right. The loser I was with couldn't ever be my boyfriend, and I needed someone cuter and more interesting. Emmett, with his hotness, and obvious bad boy attitude, would be fun. I bet he was on all types of drugs, knew the best hangouts, and would up for any party. I swallowed despair plotted distracting the girls so I could take Emmett up on his offer. I was more then ready to have fun.

The evil little devils who passed as my best friends giggled at my misfortune. I wiggled around in the chair, trying to get their arms of me and chase after Emmett. It wasn't fair that the one guy I had the slightest amount of interest in was the one guy they tried to keep from me. Flippin' best friends.

Bella sighed as I refused to give up, "Come on, Rose. We have work to do and he only looks like trouble, anyway."

I growled, "Work? When was the last time any of us had work to do? Do you idiots realize that we each take one class each? And you take creative writing, and Alice is in design? What 'work' could any of us possibly have? And I want trouble. Please, please, please? I really want trouble." I smiled wistfully.

Alice shook her head, "Not a chance, girlfriend. Besides, our one class starts in two minutes. You don't have time for trouble right now."

The girls let go of my arms to gather up their stuff, further proving their ridiculous point. I really didn't see why it mattered to even go to our one option class as we could have taught the classes ourselves. Bella was in creative writing, Alice was in clothing design, and I was in the slack shop class where our only project was to make a mini motor. I had finished by the second class and now spent my time reviewing the schedule that my agent sent me each day. As I always booked more than I could possibly do, I had free reign on deciding what runways and photo-shoots I would attend. Like I said, waste of time. The girls just liked to be early to class so that they could criticize their teachers and explain about their own expertise. And okay, on a normal day I would be doing the same thing, but it was a waste of time when I could be 'talking' to Emmett right now.

"Rosie!" Alice was singing as we walked past the library to the cafeteria for coffee before class. It took a lot more energy then one would think, to criticize teachers.

"Shut up, Alice." I mumbled.

She grinned, "I was just trying to get your attention. But there is a fashion 911 ahead of us. In _my_ clothes."

I glanced up to where Alice was looking, and noticed the cheerleading captain and her boyfriend engage in a lip lock. However, the disgusting part was that she was wearing the beautiful long suede red jacket with brown ties that Alice had made for last season. Of course, on anyone else the outfit would be a fashion miracle to Alice; her amazing jacket, dark wash Citizen of Humanity jeans, and Steve Madden platforms with gorgeous ruffles. The only thing that didn't work was that the head cheerleader, Victoria, had bright red hair that clashed horribly with the jacket.

Victoria pulled out of the lip lock when she noticed us, "Oh, hello, girls! Alice, I've actually been meaning to talk to you. My personal shopper at Barney's picked this gorgeous piece," she ran her finger over the collar of the jacket, "out for me, but it is a bit big. I was wondering if you could possibly tailor it for me. It is your piece, after all. And its absolutely stunning!"

Of course it was stunning; Alice had created it especially for me. She normally made one style in three different colors for us, but this particular jacket had been just for me. Victoria looked like a flaming disaster in it, while I looked like a goddess. Anyone could see that.

"Actually, Victoria," Alice said, wrinkling up her nose, "I don't think that is the right color for you. It clashes with your hair. And by the way, it is meant to be loose. Otherwise it looses its feminine charm and just looks like a mesh of fabric. If you are really interested in my designs, I'd suggest wearing the teal shirt dress with your hair color."

"Really? Thanks for the advice, Alice. I'll get my personal shopper to pick it out for me." Victoria promised.

Bella and I could barely keep from laughing. The teal shirt dress was Alice's biggest disaster; she was experimenting with showing more skin. Most of her stuff was relatively respectable, so when she was advised to create less conservative clothing, she cut nearly everything off. Still, everyone had loved it and claimed it was amazing. The three of us maintained that it was nothing more then a piece of silk with huge holes in it. Victoria would love it.

"Is it even within the school dress code?" Bella wondered when we were out of earshot.

Alice snickered, "Probably not. Victoria is going to have a fit when she sees it. Even she has more class then to wear that."

"Doubtful," I replied, then reached the door of my class, "Alright, see you bitches later."

They rolled their eyes and left me to my class of boredom and dreaming of Emmett. I headed to my usual seat in the back of the room where I could play on my Iphone without interrupting anybody. As if it took concentration to build the tiny, laughable, thing that was considered a motor in this class.

I turned on my phone and searched through my e-mails until I found the one from my agent. She had sent me three different lists; one for runway, one for photo shoots, and one for commercials. I randomly checked on some jobs where the designers or shoot directors weren't assholes.

"Hey, sexy." someone said to me.

I recognized Emmett's voice and could barely contain my excitement, "Oh, its you." I said, faking misery.

He smirked, "I know, you been desperate to see me again, darling. But don't worry, I like you, too."

"I think your messed up in the head and a complete asshole."

"And I think your a neurotic bitch. Now can we make out, baby?"

I laughed, "I know you were psycho. Now can you shut it, dunce?"

"Don't worry sweetheart. I won't be heard over you screaming my name in ecstasy."

"I don't do drugs."

"Of course not. You'll do me. Girls prefer to be sober during such an experience; you don't want drugs to drown out the feeling that is me in you."

"And guys?" I questioned.

"I don't do guys." Emmett replied.

"And I don't do you."

"Alright, alright, if you want to get all sentimental and shit. You can call it making love, if you really want." Emmett smirked again.

"Call it whatever you want, I am not having intercourse with you. Ever. So give it up."

"I get it. I'm fine with just making out first, baby. We've got to get to know each other first, anyway."

I gave him the finger, and then ignored him. If only he knew that I was more than ready to skip the 'getting to know each other first' part.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back! After having not updated or even been on FanFiction in months, I have returned from the dead. Well, returned from a very busy schedule that and not feeling up to writing. I think I'm going to start working on all of my stories at once for awhile and then focus on only one. As to what that one is, I'm not sure yet. Also, I'm looking for a beta if anyone is interested. I think having a beta will keep me motivated.**

After having left the very attractive boy when the bell rang, I wasn't sure how much more foreplay I could take. Contrary to what many believed, I hadn't had much experience with the type of thing. Obviously, none of my boyfriends were capable of conversation past their future careers, and my parents didn't allow me to work with male models. I considered skipping lunch if Emmett was going to be there.

Unfotunately, my luck only got worse. On my way to my locker, my phone started ringing. It was the insufferable boyfriend. Royce King, or Mr. Royce, as he insisted I call him, was the oldest son of a fat old man who was a successful investment banker. The King family fit my parent's expectations to a tee; Mr. King had been poor as child, but had become a millionaire through his lucky investments. Personally, I was convinced that he had inside knowledge, but my parents didn't think my insight was amusing. Either way, he was rich and his fortune would go to his overly ambitious and pompous son. The worst part was that Mr. King handled my parents finances and knew about the money trouble my parents had, and he had told Royce. As a result, he blackmailed me every time I tried to break up with him. Needless to say, I wasn't the least pleased to hear from Royce the Bastard King.

"Rosalie, darling. When were you going to call me?" he asked in his fake british accent, just one more strike against him.

I gritted my teeth, "Royce, you know I have school."

"What does school matter? I don't see why you bother attending, anyway. You already have modeling, and when we get married and you quit, I'll take care of you."

That was another thing with Royce. He always expected that I planned to give up my modeling and becone his trophy wife. If only he knew that I was going to dump him the second I turned eighteen and my parents no longer had control over me.

"Royce, school is important. If I'm going to become a mechanic, I need an education. Don't you remember that we went over this already?" I growled.

He laughed without humor, "I do remember, Rosalie. I remember that you decided to give up that ridiculous dream already. Oh, I have to go. I have a lecture in five minutes. Don't call me for at least two hours, but I'll ring you when I get out."

Fucking hypocrate.

I hung up before he could, and put my cell on silent. Then, with my horrible mood courtesy of the Insufferable One, I wandered to the cafeteria. The envious and longing looks I got as I made my way to the middle tabe were nothing new. Alice and Bella were already waiting, with questioning looks at my obvious attitude.

"Did you kill your gansta yet, Rosie?" Alice asked while pushing a salad at me.

I picked at the stupid lettuce, "No, I've nearly forgot about him. Mr. Asshole called me and was being a stupid bastard, as usual."

Both girls made sympathetic faces, "He'll only be around for a few more months, Rose," Bella reminded me, "And then you won't ever see him again."

"And we will all be adults." Alice added, "Which means we can all move in together."

I smiled at my best friends and ate slowly, thinking about how great being an adult would be. I already had an assured spot at University with my best friends, we would buy a house together, and the three of us already had great jobs. Then, I could date all the wanna-be ganstas and guys without trusts funds that I wished. It would just be my girls and I, doing what we loved best and living the good life.

I sighed with longing, and Alice and Bella exchanged sympathetic looks they thought I didn't see. Out of the three of us, I was the one most desperate for a change, and the girls felt badly about that. Alice handed her huge double chocolate chip cookie to me, even though it was her favorite. Even though it was meant to make me feel better, I grimaced at all the calories presented.

"Thanks Alice, but you keep it. I'm curvy enough as it is." I reminded her, thinking of all the jobs I had had where I had the largest hips of the bunch.

Bella frowned and pushed her lunch tray at me, "Rosalie Hale, don't you dare become one of those anorexics. You are skinny enough as it is, so eat something already."

I picked at a piece of lettuce in her salad, then hesitantly put it in my mouth. It was rather soggy and covered in ranch dressing, the way Bella normally ate her salads. However, despite being slightly gross, my stomach rumbled with hunger and I wolfed down half the salad. My best friends grinned, victorious in their goal of making me eat.

"Okay," Alice interrupted my salad craze, "You aren't normally this bad. What did Mr. Asshole say to you?"

I groaned, leaning my head in my hands, "He is just awful! I mean, I get that he basically controls me while my idiot parents still have a say in my life, but still. He thinks that I'm his bimbo, who is willing to drop everything the second he calls. And its like I am mentally retarded and there is no use in me going to school because all my life is about is marrying some rich guy. I just hate him! I hate the whole thing! Would it kill people to wake up and realize that I am a person perfectly capable of making my own decisions?"

"That is the thing. As being your own person, you need to come out and tell people what you feel. You need to tell Royce that you are going to be a mechanic and tell your parents that you hate his guts." Bella suggested.

"What is the use? No matter what I say, everyone ignores me. They hear what they want to hear. I tell Royce I want to be a mechanic, he hears that I want to be his trophy wife. I tell my parents that I loath him, they hear that I want to have his children. I'm a stupid puppet, that's it!"

Alice had a dark look, "They don't deserve you. These fuck-ups that are screwing up your life deserve to rot in the deepest pits of hell. Rosie, you are an amazing, intelligent, benevolent, and independent person and anyone who doesn't recognize that does not deserve you. Your parents don't deserve you, Royce doesn't deserve you, and this modeling world that keeps you from eating what you want does not deserve you."

Bella and I laughed shakily, disturbed by the anger Alice was portraying. For such a cheerful girl, her words were rather out of character. Still, as they were said in concern for me, I was also touched.


End file.
